


too shy to say (but i hope you stay)

by heartche



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Shopping, Sugar Baby Jisung, sugar daddy renjun, though not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartche/pseuds/heartche
Summary: Jisung is ninety-nine percent sure the world can’t be found in a burberry store. He lets himself be dragged into one nonetheless.Or the one where Renjun - in typical sugar daddy fashion - likes showering Jisung in expensive things a little too much.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Park Jisung
Comments: 5
Kudos: 141





	too shy to say (but i hope you stay)

**Author's Note:**

> this is the most self-indulgent thing i have ever written
> 
> anyway someone please take on for the team and write a 50k rensung sugar daddy auf i need it :(

Jisung is dressed in a baggy gray hoodie and black skinny jeans, denim worn down and washed out at his knees, when Renjun picks him up after class.

In hindsight, he feels kind of cheated.

A premonition would have been nice; an allusion when Jisung rolled out of bed at seven this morning, slipped into the first thing that his hands grasped, and ran straight into a polished Renjun on his way to the kitchen.

But his heart is a traitor as it has always has been, and he can’t stay annoyed for too long, not when Renjun wraps a hand around his middle and slips it into the pocket of his hoodie when Jisung shivers at a cold breeze.

It’s kind of concerning, the way his heart still flutters whenever Renjun touches him, even after five months of them knowing each other, three months into them being _official_. 

So he listens to Renjun blabber on about how it’s important to dress accordingly, and that this is kind ofa big deal, and how he loves Jisung and wants to indulge him, and that, if he could, he would buy him the world.

Although Jisung is ninety-nine percent sure the world can’t be found in a burberry store, he lets himself be dragged into one nonetheless.

In his twenty years of living, Jisung can count the amount of times he’s set a foot into a high end store on one hand, and all of those were with Renjun.

So it always makes him feel a little more at ease when Renjun intervenes their fingers, never wanders off too far, when he talks to Jisung as though he has any idea about all the different materials a shirt can be made of and what they mean.

It was obvious, the first time they met.

In a bar of all places.

When Renjun, - pretty and funny, _expensive_ Renjun - treated Jisung to a soda when he needed to get away from all the endless chatter of a birthday party he just didn’t belong to, and made him feel like he did belong, _somewhere_.

Breath tickling at his ear when Renjun leans in, he nudges Jisung forward slightly. “I think you’d look beautiful in navy, hm?”

Jisung opens his mouth; unsure how to response, he is saved by an employee, stopping in front of them. The clinking of her heels against the marble floor falls silent, polite smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Detaching from him, Renjun explains to her what they’re looking for in words that Jisung couldn’t ever imagine hearing him say in everyday conversation, let alone when he’s talking to him.

It’s attractive, in the most _Renjun_ kind of way possible.

The employee leads them down the store, until they reach a rail stacked with suits in every shade range from pitch black to light beige, a few colorful options in between, though rare.

She advises them for what feels like hours, Renjun being the one to mainly voice his thoughts, say if something is worthy of being seen on Jisung by his whole company. And even though he does ask Jisung if he likes it, if the material is comfortable enough for him, shoots him small smiles and runs his fingers down his back throughout the whole process, Jisung still suddenly feels like he doesn’t belong.

Only when they reach the changing room, does it feel like he can finally breathe again.

And when Renjun gets up on his tippy toes to press his lips against Jisung’s forehead, the younger can’t help but laugh, even.

Renjun flicks his shoulder with a scold. “Go try them on now, brat.”

Jisung scrunches up his nose. “Can’t we just buy one randomly?”

With a frown, Renjun asks, “Do you want them all?”

It’s this causal tone again. Jisung knows he means it, knows Renjun would do it in a heartbeat if he told him to. It’s a head spinning realization and for some reason, it makes Jisung‘s stomach turn with something he despises.

“ _Hyung_.”

“What?” Renjun asks, smile curling around his lips. “If you want-”

“I don’t.” Jisung deadpans quickly, already turning to step inside the fitting room.

The first suit Jisung slips into, is classic black in color and feels soft against his skin.

His reflection looks odd staring back at him. He’s worn a suit only a couple of times in his life but never something this expensive. And it does look worth the price, maybe that’s why he feels as though it doesn’t fit him right.

When he steps out, Renjun is smiling at him. All big and warm.

He runs his hands down Jisung’s arms, messing with the cufflinks faintly, fingers brushing against Jisung’s own when he pulls back again.

“It looks great on you, baby.”

Jisung still doesn’t see it, not even in the vast mirror, surrounded by expensive furniture and next to Renjun in a jacket that probably cost as much as the suit itself.

And then he tries the next one, and the next one, before finally he slips into one that is navy in color, fits comfortably against his shoulders and doesn’t look as much as kid playing dress up than the others did.

Renjun’s lips part when he steps out, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he slips his hands up under the front of it, and then messes with a couple of buttons. Jisung is clueless to what he’s doing - that perhaps it’s a way of detecting if it is fit for him, one that Jisung is too poor to know about - before he’s curling his fingers into the collar of it and leaning in.

Jisung lets him connect their mouths in a kiss faintly, before he’s pulling back again.

It makes Renjun smile, aware that Jisung isn’t the keenest when it comes to public displays of affection, he steps back again, hands resting against Jisung’s elbows.

“You look really beautiful, baby.”

Jisung rubs his hands against his cheeks to try and distract from the way he can feel them heat up. “Shut up.”

“I mean it.” Renjun states, ruffling Jisung’s hair until the younger ducks away. “I think this is the one, yeah?”

Only once Jisung is back in his casual clothes, preoccupied with fixing his hair in the dressing room mirror, does curiosity get the better of him and he checks the price tag.

He regrets it the second he does so, swallows, counts the zeros again, and then again, once more, just to be sure.

He tries to convince himself that Renjun must know how much it costs, he was the one that chose it in the first place. Still his stomach turns at the thought of having someone spend so much money on him.

And although he knows Renjun doesn’t expect it from him, he doesn’t feel comfortable being in someone’s debt.

Not when the sum they’re talking is more than Jisung earns in half a year.

When he steps out of the dressing room, the employee from earlier is there again, speaking to Renjun quietly. She stops mid conversation, stepping forward to take the suit from Jisung’s hands.

Renjun speaks up, before she has the chance to wander off again.

“Do you have accessories that go with this, too?”

“ _Renjun_.” Jisung mutters under his breath, eyes burning into Renjun’s side.

He can’t do much but watch though, as Renjun tells the employee what he’s envisioning. And only once she wanders off again, does Renjun turn to look at him.

“Hm?”

“The suit costs almost _three million_ won.” Jisung says quietly - he assumes it’s not exactly appropriate to talk money in a store like this.

Renjun frowns. “And?”

Somehow, Jisung’s voice gets even quieter, though the urge in it stays consistent. “It’s already so expensive.”

“It’s my treat, Jisungie.”

“I don’t-“

The employee comes back before he can finish, in her hand a few pieces of accessories.

They barely look at them, Renjun tries to but Jisung has an itch under his skin and he can’t stop being dismissive whenever Renjun shows him something he likes.

He has half a mind to feel bad. They _are_ beautiful - that’s out of question - a couple of clunky golden rings, a few slim belts, a collection of colorful handkerchiefs.

But they aren’t for _him_ , despite how much Renjun wants them to be.

So in the end, they end up buying none.

As they leave the dressing room, Renjun intervenes their hands. With a light squeeze to Jisung’s palm, he pulls him in gently, turning his face so he can speak to him quietly.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to wear anything you don’t want to.”

“I know.” Jisung says, and then, because it sounded a tad too defensive even to his own ears, he adds, “Maybe next time?”

Renjun hums at that, seemingly satisfied with his response.

They roam the store for a while longer; Jisung is more contend watching Renjun pick out pieces of clothing and ask if he thinks they’d look good on him, than he was when it was the other way around.

And he likes it, enjoys it even when Renjun plucks out a ridiculous orange and pink checkered shirt just to poke fun at it. And he likes it when Renjun racks his brain, unsure if he should buy a flannel that looks like something no one under the age of forty wouldeven look at twice, but he knows Renjun is the type of person to pull it off.

Despite that, he still flicks Renjun’s collar and jokes, “Everybody will think you’re my grandpa in this.”

So Renjun, of course, gives it to next employee passing by and tells her to put it to the rest of his soon-to-be-bought stuff at the register.

Jisung watches as he lingers at a rack of jackets for a little longer, pulling one out - denim material with olive patches at the sleeves and the seams - and holds it out to Jisung.

“Isn’t this your style?”

Reaching out to brush his fingers over the fuzzy pockets, Jisung hums. “I like it-“

Without letting him finish, Renjun pulls it off the hanger, holding it out for Jisung to slip into. “Here. Try it on.”

“Renjun, I don’t-“ Cutting himself off, Jisung makes sure to lower his voice when he continues, “I don’t need it.”

“It’s a christmas present.”

Renjun is pouting now. It’s kind of evil. But Jisung, unwilling to give in, picks the hanger up anyway, signaling for him to put it back.

“Isn’t the suit my present already?” He says, more tongue-in-cheek than anything.

“You can have more.” Renjun points out, with a shrug. “You deserve more.”

“Hyung.” A sigh slips past his lips, eyes darting from Renjun’s face to the piece of fabric and back up to his face again. “I mean it. It’s okay.”

“You’d look pretty in it, though.”

Most of the time Jisung is just as stubborn as Renjun - if not more so. Maybe it’s part of his childish nature, the fact that sometimes he still feels like an aimless teen back in school, more than he does an adult. Whereas Renjun seems to be so sure of himself and where he is in life.

It intimidates Jisung as much as it makes him want to push buttons.

Right now though, he seems honest, maybe a little unsure. _Vulnerable_.

It might be all that, or perhaps, Jisung just likes the way Renjun laughs when he slips his arm through the first sleeve, the way he ruffles Jisung’s hair affectionately when he fixed his collar, the way he stands a little too close when Jisung inspects himself in the nearest mirror.

“Isn’t the point of a christmas present for it to be a surprise?”

“You’re brat, you know, right?”

With an affirmative hum, Jisung tilts his head to the side, the tips of Renjun’s hair tickling against his cheek. “Can we leave soon? I still gotta get lofthouse cookies from target.”

-

Renjun’s room smells like cinnamon and cookies; it’s a mind numbing realization, the one that Jisung is already leaving fingerprints all over his life.

It shows in the way Renjun went from slipping that he never buys a tree because “ _what’s the point when you’re alone anyway?_ ” to going starry eyed and giddy when he watched Chenle turn his, Jisung’s and Donghyuck’s flat into a winter wonderland barely a week ago.

And it shows in the way his room went from smelling of expensive leather to cherry one night, and then vanilla the next day and laundry detergent the day after that, until finally, they had tried every candle Jisung had found at home.

Even upside down, silk sheets soft against Jisung’s backside and face blotchy red and burning, does he wonder how he ever got so lucky, when he will wake up from this dream for good, how Renjun can be so beautiful and all his.

When exactly he got so content with watching quietly as Renjun, changed into a big flannel and towel dry hair hanging into his eyes, goes through a stack of papers on his desks, throws a shirt onto his bed which barely misses Jisung, before eventually, the bed dips under his weight too.

Distractedly, Renjun brushes the pad of his index finger across Jisung’s ankle in tickling soft touches, prompting him to squirm lightly, eyes fluttering closed.

And for some reason, Jisung feels as though this is the perfect opportunity to breach the topic. Now, in the quiet of Renjun’s room, it almost could be.

“You’ve got a problem.”

Renjun’s fingers still against his skin. “Hm?”

“I mean. Wait, _god_ , that came out so wrong-” Jisung splutters, deciding to heave himself up, knows he has to look Renjun in the eye, even if he’d rather keep them closed. Sitting up against the headboard, he crosses his legs underneath him, rubbing a hand through his disheveled hair. “I don’t like it when you spend so much money on me, is what I’m trying to say. You shouldn’t spend money on me just for the sake of spending money on me, you know?”

Renjun seems to think about it. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Jisung says. “Oh.”

Tugging at the collar of his flannel, Renjun tilts his head to the side; his face mirrors something alike guilt, almost, perhaps he looks sheepish.

“I mean, okay. It’s just, I didn’t- you’ve never complained before.” Renjun states, fingers drawing patterns against the sheets now, the way he did on Jisung’s skin earlier. “And usually others like it when I buy them stuff. So I didn’t think it’s like, a big deal.”

“You’re so daft.” Jisung says with a snort. “I told you it’s expensive and that I don’t need it.”

Now Renjun looks sheepish for sure. It awakens the urge within Jisung to kiss his rosy cheeks. “I thought you were acting coy. You always do that.”

“I-“ Jisung is rendered speechless for a whole three seconds, before he finds his words again. “What? I’ve never done that - especially not _on_ _purpose_.”

“Sure, Jisungie. That’s not your way of flirting at all.”

Jisung tries to look intimidating, if Renjun’s laugh is anything to go by, he misses the mark. “It’s not.”

“See.” Renjun points out amid yet another laugh. “You’re doing it again.”

“Stop trying to change topic.”

“I’m not, I heard you.” Renjun says, scooting closer. His hands settle on Jisung’s knees, and shifting his weight onto them, he leans up into Jisung’s personal space. “I swear I’ll never buy you anything again, ever. Pinky promise.”

Jisung levels him with a look, one that Renjun rivals with a beaming smile before he scoots in to press his lips against Jisung’s, again, and again, and again.

Until Jisung’s head feels like it’s spinning and all that he can think about is Renjun.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it as much as i liked writing it!! <3
> 
> If you want to talk, I have [twitter](https://twitter.com/plumjsung) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/plumjsung) :-)


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